I can see
through the laden
it carries the sound of fog
swallowing all the footsteps
you left behind you as you turned
your back and made
a ceremony of leaving

In the moment
screams came to my throat
and died
protests that would have
risen Joan
had they passed my lips
died there
so much does

The fog holds me
her damp embrace
like a sweater left in a hurry
on a wooden park bench
When the seasons changed
from dry eyes
that tears forgot,
aches swallowed the heart
so long ago that
everyone talks
“Why can’t they move on?”
Out of the world
painted blue
under the rug
solid and
I buried everything
beneath the trap door

Move past his voice
the fog spits it out
wherever you go
dress up in the night
Get your picture taken
You’ve blurred for the camera
The ship sails
Yellow and white begin
to look
green and blue
Soon you’ll be a swirl
under the bus
trying to remember
your life